


Fidati di Mi

by hanyou_elf



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Rape, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyou_elf/pseuds/hanyou_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry needs to learn to trust and Draco is the only one who can teach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fidati di Mi

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hd_smoochfest on livejournal. Betad by zhem1x5 who was also responsible for the constant cheerleading i needed and the abuse that made this fic possible.

Harry was rigid beneath him. His hands were fisted side by side above his head, held almost gently in place by one of Draco’s hands. The fiery jade eyes were clenched shut, his nostrils flared wide and his mouth (one he had often fantasized about) was wide as he panted, wet teeth gleamed in the firelight. 

Draco straddled the prone figure, crotch to crotch and just looked. His first thought had been one of excitement: that it had been lust and desire in the loud reactions of Harry’s firm body. 

Falling into bed together had been like their relationship of years past: violent, explosive, and passionate. It had started out as a fight, because Harry was wound too tightly, too stressed out to be able to have a normal conversation. Draco had thought that having a night of hot sex would break the tenseness in Harry’s shoulders, break the stick that held Harry’s back rigid. But now, the more he thought about it, the harder he looked at the situation, he knew it wasn’t excitement. Harry was terrified. His body was taut in fear and still he lay here. He was terrified, but he would give it up because Draco wanted him too. 

He sat back, pulling away so he straddled Harry’s thighs instead and supported himself with a firm hand on the flat stomach. Narrowing his eyes, he took in Harry. The fear he didn’t like. And now that Draco had let him go, he still wasn’t willing to move from the position he’d been placed in. It was like he thought Draco would exact a punishment of some kind if he did. 

It was an impossible thought that fluttered through his mind. Surely nobody would dare to rape the saviour? 

“Harry?” he asked softly, his voice gentled and quiet in such a stark situation. Harry didn’t speak. He didn’t say anything. His eyes blinked open slowly and Draco drew in a soft gasped breath when he saw the tears in the jade eyes. Draco didn’t say anything for a long minute. He didn’t know what he could say; there really weren’t words for it. 

He shifted and sighed. He had been hard as a rock, but he wasn’t going to have sex with a man who didn’t want to have sex. There was no joy in forcing sex on another man. He was rapidly losing the steel hardness as he sat still, puzzling things through. He would die of blue balls before he pushed this for more.

“Talk Potter,” he demanded softly. His hands rested on the flat muscles of Harry’s stomach. He watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered and his nostrils flared. 

“What do you want to know?” he asked finally. His voice was a soft thready thing full of emotion and fear. It was the sound of a fear that he was unfortunately far too familiar with. It was a fear of an authoritative fixture, intent on taking control and ruining him. The fear was something that would be tangible, and it tasted sour in Draco’s mouth.

Draco watched Harry. He lay there, unmoving. His eyes never met Draco’s: they never made it past his chin. Gone was the man who’d run through challenge after challenge. Gone was the man who had thumbed his nose at authority. What was left was little more than a pale façade. 

“Are you doing this or not?” Harry asked.

“What?” 

“Merlin, you’re a bloody idiot. Are you fucking me tonight or just fucking leaving?”

Draco felt like he’d been punched in the chest. Harry was convinced he was going to be used. His words insinuated he didn’t even expect reciprocated pleasure. He would be used like little more than a whore. 

“What happened to you?” Draco asked quietly. He slid his lightly calloused hands over the ridges of Harry’s stomach. He smoothed the muscled skin lovingly and watched the prone man intently. 

Harry growled and threw himself to the side, forcing Draco onto the bed beside him. There was power in the tanned brunette, grace in the movements of his lithe body. He was fucking beautiful, but he was broken. Somebody had taken the Wizarding World’s saviour and broke him. 

Draco sighed and pushed himself up. He sat there, staring down at the other man, watched him as he curled into himself. His long body was shoved into an unnaturally small shape. 

“You can leave now,” Harry mumbled into his hands. He buried his handsome face in the curve of his hands. He breathed slow and deep and carefully measured. 

Draco licked his lips and curled a hand over Harry’s naked shoulder. He sighed softly and pulled Harry around until he lay on his back. “Don’t hide. You are not a bloody coward.”

“Piss off. You don’t know anything,” Harry growled into his hands. 

Draco snorted and in a voice he hadn’t used in year, a voice that was snotty and derisive and full of ugly hatred and contempt, he growled back, “Some fucking saviour.”

“It’s not me anymore!” Harry shouted. He pulled his hands away from his face and Draco felt like the breath had been stolen from him. The green eyes were wet with tears that remained unshed. “It was a fucking accident. I’m not… I’m not him.” 

“And you called me a bloody idiot. Merlin, Potter. You’re him and that’s it. Accept it and deal with it. Be the attention whore you’re supposed to be.”

“I don’t want them to see me,” Harry whispered softly. His hands came back up to cover his face and Draco thought he might just scream. He could handle broken and he could handle confused. But this: Harry had given up. He wasn’t even willing to fight anymore. He was little more than a pound of flesh to be used as another man saw fit. He was quickly spiraling out of control, and Draco couldn’t watch him go off of the deep end. He felt a small fire in the pit of his stomach, and he knew that he would have to do something. He couldn’t let Harry fall. 

“No more,” Draco demanded firmly. “Don’t let anyone else see you like this. Remember who you were at the end, when you stood so very firmly. You refused to even show how exhausted you were until you were alone. I was there, Harry. I saw you when you collapsed at the end of the Hall. But nobody else did. Very few people saw it. All they saw was Harry Potter giving into his grief and mourning the loss of a friend before being comforted by the mother Weasel until you all left for some privacy.”

“Th’fuck is your point?” Harry slurred thickly.

“Pretend, Potter. Make believe as you did when you were a child. You are strong as long as you exude confidence. People will believe that you have confidence and strength if you pretend that you do.”

“I don’t want to anymore,” Harry whispered. He shuddered and breathed slow and deep. His shoulders trembled like he was crying. His body was rigid as he held himself still in the forced circle. Draco took pity on his and slid a hand over Harry’s shoulder, stroked the naked skin slowly, carefully. He slid his hand down Harry’s back and up his spine, stroked the skin tenderly. 

“You have to do things that you don’t want to. No matter who you are. Sleep, Potter,” Draco ordered softly. “I’m not fucking you.”

-.-.-.-

After Harry’s breakdown, after the night in which Harry had slept fitfully, Draco had ordered him to the Room of Requirement after their classes. He needed to give Harry something different to think about, to dwell on and not the things that had happened to him in the past. He was pleased to see the door open and Harry standing in the doorway.

“Harry,” Draco smiled. The room was quiet. It had a round table, with scrolls, quills, and inkpots, and two comfortable chairs. There was a large window filled with the image of a field, flowers and trees bloomed under a bright sun. It was a relaxed environment. And it was what Draco needed, if he was going to approach this thing with Harry. “Come in.” 

Harry moved cautiously. It was like he expected Draco to attack him, like he expected Draco to come across the room and force him to something that he didn’t want. There was a look in his eyes that a wild animal had when cornered. He settled into the open chair uneasily. His back was straight and his posture on edge. He looked like he was ready to bolt. And Draco couldn’t stand it. 

“What is it, Draco?” Harry asked after long minutes of silence. 

“We’ve had quite a history, haven’t we?” he asked instead. He lifted a quill and wrapped elegant fingers around an inkpot. 

“And your point? I’ve got history with everyone.” 

“We’re different. And I noticed something that I didn’t like last night. And I want to help you.” 

“There’s nothing wrong. Sex is sex. If you didn’t want to fuck me last night, then so be it. If you don’t have the bollocks-” 

“It’s not healthy,” Draco interrupted. “You didn’t want it. You were terrified, Harry.”

“What does it matter?” 

“I thought we were friends,” Draco shrugged. He smiled, and it was calculated and perfected over the years. His eyes watched the brunette, traced the fidgeting and nervous behavior. “And as a friend, I would prefer to help you where I know there’s an issue that needs attention.” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I know how to help you.” 

“You don’t know anything,” Harry accused. 

Draco stood up and sauntered around the table. He traced the curve of the wood table with the tips of his fingers and his lips were thinned as he moved. He didn’t stop until he was in front of Harry. He was proud of the brunette, he didn’t move too much, but the nervous energy seemed to form an almost tangible barrier around Harry.

He pulled the chair that Harry seemed determined to hide in as a safety net and kneeled before the brunette. His hands were braced on the powerful thighs and he gripped them firmly. “I can help you.” 

Harry’s green eyes fell closed and his hands gripped tight to the arms. He didn’t move much at all, his body was rigid, and Draco could feel the rush of power as he restrained himself. “You don’t know…” 

“You were hurt by somebody. And it made you think of sex as something that has to be done. Not something that should be enjoyed. And I want to make sure your perception is changed.” Draco licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, allowed himself a moment of perceived uncertainty. He straightened his posture and made himself as appealing as he could possibly be in that moment looked up at the brunette. “I want you.” 

“Then just fuck me,” Harry demanded.

“Not until you want it. I want you to enjoy it. I want you to like it, to want it. I want you to be begging for it.” 

Harry closed his eyes, his hands gripped tighter and Draco could see his nails digging into the false wood on the arms. “Why? I’m a hole. Fuck me.” 

After the war, things between the students had changed dramatically. The seventh year students who had been unable to complete their last year for various reasons had been invited back to Hogwarts to take an eighth year. In deference to the students being of age and the shortened school span focused primarily on the N.E.W.T.S., they were given their own wing within the castle. The boys shared a dormitory, and the girls shared a separate. There were no houses in the eighth year. They were soldiers, victims, survivors. 

The school was accommodating, and it was good to be around other students his age, who had fought like he had. They all had issues left over from the war, lingering nightmares that haunted them all when they weren’t able to keep thoughts at bay. But Draco had noticed that Harry seemed to have more. He tossed and turned all night long, and when he slept, it wasn’t for long. It was disconcerting to see, but there was nothing anyone could do when Harry wouldn’t talk about it. 

Harry lived with them but he seemed to be separate from them all. He lived a life apart. It was time for that to stop. Draco stood and towered over Harry for a long minute. Without warning, he leaned forward and licked his lips suggestively. Harry’s tense body went stone still and he barely breathed. Draco kissed him, a gentle press of lips that barely touched him. 

“You’re more than that. And you’re petrified of a bloody kiss. If you want more then you work with me.” 

“What? Doing what?” “

“I’m going to teach you how to trust again.” 

Harry breathed a sobbing breath out and looked away from the blond. His chest stuttered as he breathed in jerky movements. “You can’t… I can’t.” 

“You can. Let me. And I’ll get you there.” 

-.-.-.-

An owl carried a letter to Draco. It dropped the letter unceremoniously in front of him. The owl was a school owl, dirt and mud colored. There was nothing special about the owl to indicate who had written it or where it had come from. Draco knew it was probably from Harry, and the scrawled black ink on the front confirmed it. 

Draco opened it reverently. He was alone at his table in the Great Hall. The privacy was nice, but he wished for more of his own companions around him more often. There were a few Slytherins that had returned for the optional eighth year, but many had preferred to travel abroad; away from the stink of prejudice, away from the lingering mire of recent misfortunes.

He looked up and across the Hall at Harry and the other two members of the Golden Trio. Granger, who he had to bequeath a begrudging respect for, on Harry’s left and the Weasel on the right. They chatted happily with Harry, seemed to ignore the lines of exhaustion around his eyes, the downturn of his lips. He shook his head elegantly and turned his attention to the letter in his hands. 

[i]I hate kneeling. I’m not a fucking dog. Is it really necessary?[/i]

Draco smiled at the question. Trust Harry to prove confrontational. It was a good sign though because it meant that the Harry he’d known and enjoyed fighting against was still in there. He looked up and stared across the Hall until Harry looked and caught his eye. He looked significantly at the letter in his hands and back up to the green eyes before he nodded slowly. It was amusing to see the defeat in Harry’s shoulders. He nodded back, much less enthusiastically and returned his attention to the Trio. 

One day Harry would learn the power that came from kneeling before another man.

-.-.-.-

Draco watched Harry as he came into the Room of Requirement. He’d made sure the room was muted, plain with just a bed, an overstuffed and incredibly comfortable chair, and a small cherry wood desk. The bed was covered in a blanket and sheet set that was black and burgundy. Draco knew from experience that they were incredibly soft, the same quality as his blankets in the manor. 

Harry looked around the room sedately. His eyes were hidden beneath the faint glare on his lenses and Draco wanted to spell the offensive things away. His hands were fisted at his sides, his lips pulled tight as he struggled with some internal issue he wasn’t ready to bring up. They were making progress, but history was hard to forget. 

As much as Draco wanted to force Harry to his knees, force him to bow his head submissively and just give up all semblance of control, he couldn’t. What they were doing here was about trust. Harry had to come to him for that much loss of control. Given what little he knew about Harry, he knew that he couldn’t force the issue. 

The evidence supported his belief that somebody had forced Harry once upon a time. They’d taken his choices and his freedoms away and all that was left in the end was a broken man. And it was this broken man that Draco was trying to save.

Harry kneeled, because that was what he did now. He bowed his head and black hair that was softer than it looked fell over his eyes, hiding those hateful glasses away. Resting on his heels, Harry curled his hands together in his lap, his fingers laced together to mask the shaking in his rough and calloused hands. 

Once, Harry had rushed forward into anything without thought for consequence. He’d been bold and brazen, rough and free spirited. Something had happened either during or immediately after the war which had ruined that. He didn’t try anymore. In Draco’s opinion, Harry was just going through the motions. He attended classes and he played Quidditch. He didn’t even hang out much with the Weasel and Granger. It was as if Harry had just quit living. 

What bothered him most though was how little anyone else had done to make sure that Harry was okay, to ensure that the saviour was safe, mentally. Physically there was nothing wrong with him, and magically none could compete with him. 

Something was broken in Harry. He let his grey eyes trace over the bowed head and submissive stance. His powerful body trembled as he waited, patient but confused. 

“You’re doing well,” Draco praised softly. He slid his hand through the soft hair, letting the chocolate strands slip through his fingers teasingly. Harry’s trembling slowed with each pass of his hand until it was gone. “Take your glasses off,” he ordered. 

Harry lifted the joined hands and pulled his glasses free. Without looking up, he offered the frames to Draco. The light from the fireplace flickered over the line of words scratched permanently into his hand: [i]‘I must not tell lies.’[/i]

“We’re going to start small. Getting to know you. I will reciprocate your honesty,” Draco murmured. He slid his hand from Harry’s hair to his temple and down to his cheek. “You’re going to write to me. Journal entries. I need to know what happened to you, Harry. I need to know who you are, so I don’t hurt you.” His hand slid across the apple of Harry’s cheek and down, cupping the expanse of smooth lightly tanned skin. He tilted Harry’s head to the right and offered a quirk of his lips when Harry’s eyes looked at him. “Do you understand?”

“Do I have to?” Harry asked in a voice that was broken and gravelly. He hadn’t used it in a long time, it sounded like.

“We’ll start small Harry. For now, tell me what you always wanted, after you found out you were a wizard,” Draco asked as he slid his hands down to encompass the whole of Harry’s neck.

“I just wanted to get away from my uncle and aunt.” 

Draco’s hand slid up from his neck, over the jut of his jaw and cupped his cheek. “What was wrong with living with them? Surely it was better than staying in the orphanage?” 

Harry nuzzled his cheek into the gentle touch, and clenched his eyes shut. He wasn’t allowed to touch, was only supposed to sit there, let Draco have what he wanted, and it was a test for him again. Another test. Harry hated the tests, had made no secret of the fact, but he still subjected himself to them, because he liked the way Draco treated him. It was more than he would’ve ever thought he deserved. But he liked it. 

“My aunt and uncle hated me. They treated me just like a house elf. Only nobody petitioned for me to have any kind of freedom. Nobody cared that I was being neglected. The few people from the Wizarding world didn’t do anything because Dumbledore left me there, so they trusted that I was okay. Muggles didn’t care because they didn’t want to get involved in something they didn’t understand,” Harry shrugged. “It turned out okay in the end. They protected me from Voldemort and were smart enough to let me go when it was time.”

“Thank you,” Draco murmured softly. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s temple. “We’re going to reward you for your honesty.” 

“Thank you,” Harry breathed faintly. He collapsed against Draco’s lap and laid his head down. He wrapped his hands around Draco’s calves, closed his eyes and just breathed slowly. He trembled in the midst of some emotion- fear, excitement, nerves, anger, Draco wasn’t sure. But he wanted to comfort him as best as he could. 

-.-.-.-

[i]I am not a dog. I will not be ordered around and I will not be treated like a dog. You’re not my master. You don’t own me. No matter what you say, no matter what you say I need. I just want to be normal. Is it too much to ask for to just be normal? I’ve never been allowed to be normal, and it’s aggravating. I am a person. I’m not a tool. I’ve been a tool for somebody since I was eleven. And I’m tired. I just want to be a normal wizard. Why don’t you understand that too? Don’t you just want to be normal?

You said to pick a word that would mean things had to stop. A word that I wouldn’t say normally, that you would respect. Doesn’t that mean I have power over you? The word I choose to stop things completely is tornado. To take a break, hurricane.[/i]

-.-.-.-

Harry moved slowly. His head was bowed and his eyes were covered. This was a test for Harry. It was a chance for him to close his need for control off and to just submit. More importantly, it was a chance for Harry to prove his trust in Draco. If he would just give up control, he would be able to move through the slightly cluttered room easily. 

But Harry wasn’t doing that. Instead, he was walking through the room blindfolded. He was deliberately behaving proudly, because he could. Draco didn’t say anything, Harry knew he was there and all he had to do was ask for help. When he did, Draco would move him through the room and to the bed. When Harry proved he wanted to trust him, Draco would give him respite. 

Harry’s reward would be a night curled together in bed, perhaps even an orgasm. Draco wasn’t opposed to it, especially since they hadn’t gotten to that point again yet. But it all depended on what Harry decided to do. If he didn’t ask for help in twenty minutes, he would be punished for his pride. If he could just let go, Draco wouldn’t have to do anything. He could hold Harry. 

The desire was something he was struggling with. Even though he was friends with Harry, and now even more, he couldn’t stop the desire he had to protect him. Apparently he’d something in him that spoke to the broken. He wanted to protect Harry. Every time he met up with Harry like this in the Room of Requirement, he found more and more that he wanted to do something to protect him. To soothe whatever it was that had brought him to this broken place. 

Draco watched Harry run into the small end table for the seventh or eighth time before he finally broke down. “Draco?” he asked in a voice that was tight with frustration and anger. 

“Yes Harry?”

“Can you… can the blindfold come off?”

Draco couldn’t stop the sigh of disappointment. “I already told you that it wouldn’t come off until you were in the bed.” 

“Where the fuck is it?” he demanded angrily. 

“You can continue to search for it or you can make a different decision.” 

“What?” Harry asked. “What do you want?” 

“Do what you think is best,” Draco suggested. He forced himself to sit down in the overstuffed chair that the room manifested for him. He crossed his legs and sat back, his hands elegantly rested in his lap.

“Fuck!” Harry shouted. He fisted his hands in his dark hair and fell laboriously to his knees. He dug his hands into his jeans, fisted his hands and stretched the material until it was at risk of tearing. “Can… can you… I need help.” 

Draco had to fight to keep himself calm and to not celebrate like he wanted to. “What do you want me to do, Harry?” 

“Help me find the bed?” he asked finally. His voice was soft and broken, it sounded like he was going to start crying. Draco felt bad for that, but he couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure at Harry finally admitting to needing help. 

Draco stood and moved gracefully through the room. Around two chairs, an end table that Harry continued to run into, and the foot of the bed.

This was an important lesson that he had to learn. Harry was so close to the bed, but he couldn’t do it alone. He needed to know that Draco would be there, to support him and guide him. He needed to know, to learn, and trust that he would be able to depend on Draco when he needed the support.

Draco slid a hand through Harry’s hair, touched him softly. Harry had done something very important and he needed to be rewarded. He had to know that Draco was proud of him. For finally giving in to what he needed to do. “Very good, Harry. You’ve done well. Stand up.” 

Harry obeyed. He took a breath that was suspiciously wet and Draco ignored it. When Harry was on his feet, he pulled the other closer to him. Arms wrapped around Harry’s body and he just held him, waited for the shaking in the underweight body to calm down. When it had, he took Harry’s hands carefully in his own and walked him slowly around the room. “Be careful, slow steps and follow my lead,” he commanded softly. 

Harry had his head bowed in submission. His lips were a tight line of anxiety, but he refused to disobey. He’d given in, and that was enough. Harry didn’t stumble once as Draco led him around the room. He moved slowly, carefully. And when Draco finally sat him down on the bed, he simply sighed out in resignation. 

“Lay down Harry,” Draco murmured softly. He watched while the brunette obeyed. He flopped backward, his arms spread wide on either side of him. He slid a hand down the trim side, a side that was nearly too concave. Harry had lost a lot of weight, and he’d done it quickly. He’d never been a fit enough man to be considered the correct weight. 

He traced the contours of muscles as his hand moved over the flimsy t-shirt and down, to his waist. Draco watched him carefully. Harry was trembling against the bed, his arms spread wide and his hands fisted in the sheets beneath him. He was laid out with his body spread wide like he was relaxed, but in reality he was tensed in fear. Draco clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to continue. This was just another chance for Harry to prove his trust. 

More importantly, this was one of the best chances that Draco had had to prove to Harry that he could be trusted. What they were doing was safe enough for Harry to let go.

“I’m going to take your shirt off,” Draco murmured. It wouldn’t be the first time he saw Harry without the fabric covering him in a poor imitation of a shield. But it would be the first time after taking this path together with Harry, with him giving up his control. “And after I do, I’m going to touch you.” 

Harry breathed deep, his body shivering as he clutched at the sheets beneath him. “Take the blindfold off?” he asked softly in a voice that was just this side of begging. 

“Not yet Harry,” Draco murmured. He slid his hands under the thin shirt and traced the muscles there slowly. He quirked a small smile at Harry even though he couldn’t see it. They needed to work on Harry’s trust, but they had all the time in the world.

Harry shuddered and fisted his hands tightly in the sheets. He pulled at the sheets and Draco slid his left hand around Harry’s right fist, holding him gently as he moved his hand over Harry’s chest. There were scars on the thin chest, and Draco wanted to find them with his fingers before he found them with his lips and traced them. He wanted to tease and comfort Harry. He wanted to show him that what they had, between the two of them, two men, could be very good. Eventually, Draco would show Harry that sex between men was something incredible. Not the damaging thing that he had to of experienced. 

With the shirt up under Harry’s armpits, Draco slid his hand down the flat stomach, teasing along the lean lines of muscles. Harry sucked his stomach in deeply and Draco grimaced at the emaciated look it gave the brunette. He tightened his hand over Harry’s fist before he bowed his head and pressed a kiss to Harry’s belly button. “I’ve got you Harry,” Draco whispered into the taut flesh. “Trust me.” 

“Please,” Harry begged in a voice that was too thin, watery with held back sobs. “Please take the blindfold off.” 

“Tell me your word if you need to, Harry.” 

“Tornado,” he sobbed. The tears that he had been fighting finally fell. He sobbed a breath in and curled in on himself.

“Alright Harry,” Draco acquiesced. He waved his left hand and spelled the blindfold away. With graceful movements, he pulled Harry’s shirt down and lay down on the bed beside the saviour. Somebody needed to protect him, and Draco was the only one who seemed to be willing to step up to do the job.

He slid his hand through the dark hair, wrapped an arm around Harry’s shuddering shoulders and took his time to try to comfort as best as he could. He wasn’t great at offering comfort, didn’t really know how to do it, but he knew that Harry needed a little bit of love. He needed a little bit more than he would even admit to. Probably more than what Draco knew he would be able to reasonably give. 

He was surprised when Harry rolled over and buried his face in Draco’s chest. He tried not to be, but he couldn’t stop the flush of heat that ran through him. He wrapped his hands tighter around the thinner man- and wasn’t that unusual- and pulled him in as close as possible. Harry needed the comforting, and he was relieved to know that the past three months had helped to teach Harry that Draco would be able to offer comfort and support. 

“Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. No more blindfolds. I need to be able to see.” 

“Okay, Harry. Okay,” Draco soothed. “We’ll work on them. I want you to trust me. Trust in me. Even if you’re wearing a blindfold.” 

Harry didn’t say anything else, and Draco didn’t either. Instead he stroked the long back, soothing and comforting as best as he could. He shuddered and moved his hands to fist in Draco’s shirt. There were wet breaths as he cried, soft and nearly silent. It broke Draco’s heart to know that Harry had cried silently often enough that he could barely hear it even though Harry was right there, against his chest. 

He was going to take all this pain away eventually. 

-.-.-.-

[i]I think this is a stupid idea. I hate the idea of being weak. And I really hate the idea of you knowing about it. It’s irritating. You’re not supposed to know this much about me. It’s not enough that you were my enemy and now we’re friends? Now you want to make it something else, something more. You want to be best friends, hell. You want to be fucking lovers or something. I don’t have sex Draco. Not anymore. I just don’t. I can’t do it. I refuse. And you’re not going to make me. 

You want to be whatever it is you’re trying to make me be. And I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be the little person who doesn’t fight. I don’t know how to be vulnerable to anyone else. It’s hard. And you’re asking too much from me. 

I hate kneeling, damnit. You just want me to come into the room with you, the room that I had stolen for myself to make my own so I could get away from people and you want me to kneel. You want me to treat myself like I’m less than you’re worth. That’s what it seems like. Help me understand this, Draco. I’m trying. I really am, but I don’t think I can.[/i]

-.-.-.-

Draco read through the note Harry had written and didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how he was going to address this issue. There was no way to make Harry see that there was power in giving up the stubborn pride that held his back straight. There was more than just kneeling. It was learning to trust somebody enough to be vulnerable before them. It was rejoining the human race. 

And it was a little self-serving. Draco liked to be in control. He liked having things in order and he liked knowing that he could control somebody as strong and as powerful as Harry Potter. But it was more than that too. He hated the defeated attitude that came in through Harry’s demeanor. He hated this Harry. Broken and beaten and too weak to fight for something that he wanted, no matter what it might be. 

Harry needed somebody to validate his existence. He needed somebody who would believe in him without putting extraneous demands on him. He needed to be allowed to just be the teenager he had never experienced. Harry had been fighting against a megalomaniac since the day of his birth. And from eleven, he’d been forced to shoulder the mantle of hero. 

He’d grown up in the light of scrutiny. He was reared in a world that valued magical abilities and knowledge, and he’d been forced to absorb more than he might have ever wanted. He’d lived through what had once been fantasies and myths and he’d conquered one of the deadliest of wizards in modern history. The last person to even come close to Harry’s power was Dumbledore. And Draco was demanding that he kneel, that he let himself go and just let somebody else take care of him. 

Draco did want something from Harry. But he wasn’t going to get it. Not for a long time. Harry had put his foot down about sex, and Draco was going to respect that. Especially if he wanted Harry to know that he was going to be worth the level of trust that he was going to demand. But he was determined to work Harry away from that resolution. He wanted to have sex with Harry. He had since he’d learned how good it felt to play with his dick. He’d wanted to since he noticed how good Harry’s arse looked through the Muggle jeans that he favored on the weekends when he wandered the castle with the other two thirds of the Golden Trio.

He was going to have to make Harry understand how important it was to kneel, how respectful and powerful it was to kneel before another man. And not just any man, but a man who could hurt him, but chose not to. He needed to know that he would be protected by somebody who was strong enough, but smart enough to be vulnerable when Harry needed the vulnerability. He didn’t need to be protected all the time. He needed to be allowed to have strength and he needed to be allowed to protect somebody. Harry had a thing for that. It was something Draco was going to have to remember while interacting with Harry. 

Harry was going to be a challenge the likes of which he’d never been forced to deal with before. He didn’t know how it was going to turn out. But anything that was worth having needed to be fought for. He would fight for Harry.

-.-.-.-

[i]I don’t know what to think. In the Room of Requirement, I end up kneeling at your feet and I don’t know what to do when you’re there, ordering me to obedience. It’s weird. I like it, even though I don’t think I should. I like giving up a little bit of me, only to have you there, telling me what to do, supporting me. It’s different. It’s new, and I feel like I can trust you. Which I shouldn’t be able to do. You’re supposed to hate me. I’m supposed to hate you. I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t get this thing between us. 

[s]Can I kiss you?[/s][/i]

-.-.-.-

Draco smiled to himself. Harry was slowly being broken down. Slowly learning just what Draco wanted from him. It was a long process. But each and every step that they took was important and precious. It provided Draco with a base for knowing who Harry was, and vice versa. He was learning more about the saviour than he had known previously. And he found himself liking it. 

He hadn’t realised just how much Harry kept inside to himself. Hadn’t realised how much Harry had bottled up to protect himself. As much as he’d given, he’d kept hidden away. He’d been treated as a tool. He’d been treated as little more than a means to an end. Draco would change that.

Draco was sitting in the overstuffed chair when Harry finally came into the room. He was deliberately shirtless. His chest was pale, but perfectly hairless. He was setting himself up to give Harry everything that he had asked for and more, but he needed to give Harry the opportunity to turn away from it too. He wasn’t going to force the brunette. He had resolved since the first time that they had spent any time together that he would never force him into anything. 

Harry moved slowly through the room and let himself pace the large space slowly before he stopped near Draco. He waited for the blond to gesture at him to get into position and fell deliberately, gracelessly to his knees. He slid his hands along the thickest parts of his thighs and bowed his head beautifully. It was perfect. And Draco couldn’t stop the rush of hot lust that burned through him at the sight. He hadn’t realised how much he wanted this. Not until he’d let himself imagine he could. 

“Good evening Harry,” Draco murmured softly. He carded his long fingers through the curled mess of hair. He smiled slightly enough to be teasing and warm, but far away from anything derisive. 

“Hi,” he answered. But only because Draco liked to be answered. Not because he wanted to. He’d learned. 

“I’m going to give you something today,” Draco said softly. “Something you asked for, and something you didn’t.” 

Harry looked up, his eyes narrowed in suspicious curiosity as he looked at Draco. He licked his lips and blinked slowly before he let himself speak. “What?” 

“You wanted a kiss didn’t you?”

Draco wanted to laugh at the flush of embarrassment that exploded over the brunette’s cheeks and down his neck. Harry blinked quickly and bowed his head. He coughed and adjusted himself as he sat at Draco’s feet. It was obvious through his embarrassment that Draco wasn’t supposed to have read that. 

“Y-yeah,” he answered finally. His voice was soft and quiet like it had been when they’d first started this little relationship that they had. It was infuriating and endearing.

“Come here Harry,” he ordered as he stood. 

Harry stood gracefully. He wore his pajamas: oversized pants that sat low on his hips and a muscle shirt that fell just right on Harry’s torso. His long torso looked good and Draco wanted to strip him and show his appreciation. Not yet though. Harry wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet. He had to take things slowly so that Harry would be able to accept his worshiping. 

He pulled the brunette into his lap, spread his legs so that Harry would settle perfectly above him and slid his hands down the slender back. Draco licked his lips and slid his hands up the back and cupped prominent shoulder blades. Harry was putting on more weight, Draco had been seeing to that. And the extra weight, the almost healthy weight that Harry carried around on him looked good. 

He leaned forward and pressed a dry kiss to the shoulder of the muscle shirt, kissed the black fabric and pulled the other closer to himself. His right hand slid up to Harry’s neck, braced around the slender curve of flesh and bone and muscles and angled his head up to claim Harry’s eyes. He needed Harry to be in the moment with him; needed Harry to know that he wouldn’t hurt him, and that this was something for Harry. Draco would enjoy it of course, but he wouldn’t do it without Harry’s permission. He couldn’t do that. Not to a man like Harry who struggled to just fit in every single day. Daily life was a chore for Harry. 

“I’ve got you,” Draco promised softly. He arched his back so he could stretch up enough to press his lips to Harry’s. The brunette towered over him like this and he liked it. But it wasn’t helpful when it came to kissing. He slid his lips along the dry lips of Harry, traced the contours of the lips with his tongue. It wasn’t supposed to be an involved kiss. He was supposed to press his lips to Harry, press close for a few long minutes of eternity and then pull back, let Harry dictate next. But he hadn’t wanted to let it go like that. He’d needed more. 

Harry opened up to him. His lips spread just enough that Draco’s tongue slid into his mouth and they moved sensually, slowly together. Harry’s tongue didn’t chase Draco. Instead, he waited for Draco to move and followed his lead. He let Draco set the pace and he accepted it. He kissed slowly, deeply like it was all he wanted. All he needed. 

Harry settled lower in his lap, his arms braced against the back of the chair. There was a rush of pleasure through Draco when he felt the slight hardness pressed against him. Harry was getting hard. He smiled into the kiss, chased the excitement he felt. He wanted to feel Harry naked and leaking against him. 

Draco would have rather had Harry above him, riding him- teasing and new and exciting- while he was naked. He wanted to feel the firm flesh that surrounded the iron hard flesh of Harry’s erection. He broke the kiss and slid his lips down Harry’s neck. It was too good to pass this opportunity up. He needed to know that Harry was here, that the hard flesh in Harry’s pants was for him. He needed to know that this moment meant something to the brunette as well. 

Harry’s head tilted to the side, allowed the blond to trace the taut muscles strained against the flesh. He settled even more and rocked his body just enough that Draco felt the explosion of heat through his body when they moved together. It was too good. 

He slid his hands to the small of Harry’s back and used the curve of his slender back to encourage movement. He rode the movements as Harry moved, rocked their bodies together, matched the hard length for hard length. Harry’s hands were fisted behind Draco’s head, the long fingers pulled at the blond hair. It was delicious and exciting. 

But the thing that Draco couldn’t get enough of, even as he tongued his way down Harry’s throat, was the way Harry moved. He was graceful as he rocked his body down against Draco. He trembled against the blond but refused to quit. His body was held carefully poised above Draco, his knees spread wide as he moved. It was delicious, and it was exciting, to know that he could have Harry like this. He was a surprisingly graceful and sensual being. It was like watching him on his broom.

“Draco,” Harry breathed into the air. He pressed hard against Draco and his body was tense as he moved against the blond. His body was tightened up as he moved closer and closer to completion. He panted heavily as he rode Draco’s lap, his hands shifted and pulled on the blond hair. He arched his neck back and his mouth fell open as he twitched. It looked like he convulsed sharply before he relaxed, nearly crumpled forward and fell into Draco. 

The blond couldn’t help but think about how beautiful the brunette was. Bloody amazing the way he moved, the unconscious grace he’d had as he moved above Draco. He slid his hands up the slender back, traced the heaving sides and cupped the prominent shoulder blades as he held Harry close to his body. Harry’s hands shifted and curled around Draco’s head, held him close to Harry’s trembling shoulders and just stayed like that. 

Draco would have been content to let things stay like that until he felt the tremble in Harry’s shoulders as he breathed out, his body should have calmed down enough that he wasn’t trembling and panting anymore. Draco forced himself to push his own burning need away and focused his attention on the trembling man above him. “Harry?” 

“It’s… it’s the f-first time,” he explained softly. “In almost a year. Because… because of this. Because of you.” 

Draco has believed since their failed first time that somebody raped Harry. It was an idea in his mind and this just kind of confirmed it for him. He would eventually have to make Harry talk about what had happened. They would need to address it. Especially if they were going to go further than this. 

“Thank you,” Draco murmured. He pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s temple. “For being honest.”

-.-.-.-

[i]I don’t sleep much at night. I think it’s because I know what the night hides, and I know what’s happened in the middle of the nights. I don’t like to be asleep. Especially if I don’t know the people around me well. I sleep better with Hermione, but I can’t do that. She and Ron need the time together, since they’re going to be married. I don’t know. Hermione wants me to sleep with them anyway. Not in the same bed, because that would be disgustingly weird, but in the same room. I can’t do that though. I know they want to have sex, and I can’t be in the way of that. Just because I don’t anymore doesn’t mean I believe that others don’t too. 

I don’t like being vulnerable when other people have access to me. In the hospital wing after the war, I tried to make myself sleep. I knew that Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t let anything happen to me, but it seemed that every time I fell asleep somebody was there, touching me. Somebody was there, towering over me and waiting for me. And I… I could feel… I couldn’t take it. I needed sleep and they wouldn’t let me have it. So I learned to live on less and less sleep. Now, most nights, I sleep two or three hours at a time and it’s never consecutive. I learned to be adaptive, even when all I wanted to do was sleep forever. [/i]

-.-.-.-

“Harry,” Draco called softly as he came into the room. Harry had come in first and the room had shifted to fit what he needed, rather than the cold and Spartan room that Draco conjured. It was a warm room: small enough to feel close, but decorated sparsely enough so it didn’t feel crowded. None of the furniture matched anything else. But it was comfortable. Everything was overstuffed and supportive. It was decorated in the warm colors of the earth: brown, green, and dark reds. 

Draco liked the way that the room looked, liked the way it projected Harry’s moods. It was a comfortable room, and Draco liked it for what it meant to Harry. He was happy here. He needed a room that felt safe and supportive. And Draco liked that he was allowed access to this small piece of his lover. 

He hadn’t called Harry that yet. It was something that he needed to clear with the brunette. He thought maybe he needed to have Harry say it first. It was a step that Harry needed to take on his own without Draco pushing him into it. 

Harry was settled on the rather small bed, a full instead of the king that Draco liked to have. He wore pajama pants and an a-shirt, something that showed his lithe muscles off and his stomach. Harry was a beautiful specimen, but unless he was alone or in the Room of Requirement with Draco, he was always buried beneath clothes that didn’t fit. He was usually hidden behind the billowing robes that completely ruined any façade of body shape. It was unfair. Draco had seen what he was hiding, most of it. And he appreciated the man’s beauty. 

There was a book in Harry’s lap and his head was bowed low, his glasses were precariously perched on his nose, almost ready to fall off. It was endearing. It wasn’t that late, but Harry hadn’t been sleeping well. He admitted to not sleeping well at all. And if he was asleep, Draco wasn’t going to interrupt him. He wasn’t going to ruin this. 

He smiled to himself and turned all but one bedside lamp off. He stripped down to his boxers and slid into the bed beside his brunette lover. They needed to talk, but it could wait. Fortunately it was the weekend, so there weren’t classes in the morning. He could sleep in beside Harry. He could demand Harry to sleep beside him late. And if not sleep, then to just lay in the bed beside him. He liked the earthy scent, the hint of nut and man that came from the brunette. 

He pulled the glasses off of Harry’s face and folded them to lie on the bedside table. He pulled the book from Harry’s lax hands and threw it onto the floor. It was just a textbook, so it didn’t matter how he treated it. He pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek and pulled him close. He wanted to make sure that Harry was comfortable. The more comfortable Harry was, the longer he would sleep.

Satisfied, he pulled the blankets that covered Harry’s feet up and curled himself up around Harry’s body. 

-.-.-.-

[i]I can’t believe that you just let me sleep like that! It’s been awhile since the last time that I did that, and I’m sorry. I’d do it again, but I don’t want to. If you see me sleeping, just wake me up.

You asked if I’d ever been on vacation. It took a lot out of me to not laugh when you asked. I know I’ve told you some about the Dursley’s. They had vacations, once a year. And there were trips to the zoo and the capital. But not for me. Not for the freak. They didn’t like me. And it often happened that as much as could be rearranged, I was stuck staying with an old Squib down the street. One who smelled like cats, all of whom she loved rather unhealthily.

A vacation would be nice. The only vacation I could even consider is seventh year. I spent it with Hermione and Ron, travelling the country side. It wasn’t really a vacation. But it was the only time that I ever got away. I didn’t have any adults projecting their needs on me. And I knew what I needed to do, but it didn’t matter if it took me a little extra time. It was nice to not have people on my back all the time, trying to get me to move faster. It gave me a chance to think about things. It let me think about what I needed to do, the goals I needed to accomplish. 

If I could pick a vacation spot, I would pick something on the coast. A warm place, or maybe hot. But nothing cold. I buried a friend on a cold beach.[/i]

-.-.-.-

“Close your eyes,” Draco ordered softly. He smiled at the kneeling brunette as he carded his hand through the thick tresses. “I’ve a surprise for you.” 

Harry sucked in a nervous breath, his body shivered but he nodded slowly before he obeyed. Long, graceful lashes fluttered along the apples of Harry’s cheek and his lips thinned as he waited patiently, at war with the inherent need to fight against another’s control. 

“Hold your left hand out for me,” Draco ordered. When Harry had done so, he slid the gift into his hand. Fingers wrapped reflexively around the envelope. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Harry’s head and sat back gracefully. “Open your eyes and look.” 

Jade eyes blinked open and he looked confused at the envelope. It was plain and white, unmarked except for the graceful crawl of Harry’s name across the front. He flipped the envelope over and slid his finger into the glued back and slit it open. Slender fingers pulled the paper out and he set the envelope respectfully on the ground beside his knees. With his attention on Draco, he flipped the paper open, breath held nervously. 

“We’ll be spending the two weeks of Christmas hols off of the coast of Italy,” Draco murmured. “You’re to tell me three things that you want to do. Three things that you want to see. And I want three things that you’d like for Christmas.” 

“You… I don’t… I don’t need anything. You… you don’t have to…” 

“I want to. I don’t have to do anything at all. But it’s a gift for you.”

“What can I get for you?” Harry asked softly. 

“Trust me. Just, show me that you trust me,” Draco answered just as softly.

-.-.-.-

“How’s your Italian?” Draco asked softly as he carded his hands through Harry’s black curls. 

“Non-existent,” he answered. 

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then,” Draco smiled. He slid his hands down to cup Harry’s cheeks and tilted his head up. “I’ll take care of you.” 

“Are you sure you want to take me with you on your holiday?” Harry asked instead. He tilted his head to the side and nuzzled into the support of Draco’s hand. “I’m… I don’t want to ruin it for you and your family.” 

“My family and I haven’t had a holiday together since fifth year. The Dark Lord ruined that for us. And, they don’t agree with my choices as of late. Being bent wasn’t in the family plans,” Draco smiled. He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly, as if it didn’t bother him. “You’re okay not spending the holidays with the Weasley family?” 

“It’s too noisy. There are too many people,” Harry answered quietly. 

“You realize I’ll take you to Italy. And in Italy, there will be other people.” 

“Yes, but they won’t all be crammed into the Burrow,” Harry protested.

“Have you thought of what you want for Christmas? What you’d like to do on holiday?” 

“I uh… I want to go to the beach?” he asked. 

“Do you? Or do you think you do?”

“I would. I haven’t… been to a good beach. Not a warm one. I’d like to visit one,” he said it more firmly.

“Very good. We’re going to Capalbio. It’s a coastal town. A town full of rich history and strong magic. What else do you want to do?” 

“Cathedrals. I’d like to see one. A classic one, like the castle.” 

“You want to see one rich in history and steeped in art? Why Harry, I didn’t know you were into such cultural things!” 

“Shut up,” Harry muttered. A blush worked its way up Harry’s cheeks and neck. 

“What else would you like?” Draco asked. There was a smile on his face, amusement as he played with Harry. 

“I don’t… I don’t know.” 

“Well, think of something. 

“And for Christmas?” 

“I want a full night’s sleep, without waking up early and without nightmares. I want to know what your favorite memory of me is. And my last wish… I want to spend Christmas with my lover,” he answered as he looked away from the blond.

“Those are good wishes,” Draco murmured. “C’mere.” He pulled Harry into his lap and supported him carefully. His hands traced the long lines of Harry’s back and rested his hands in the small of his back. There was no way he was letting Harry out of his sight tonight. Not after the first admission to being a lover. Harry was the first to say it aloud. And Draco liked the way it sounded in his voice. “I want you to sleep with me tonight.” 

Harry’s eyes were wide as he looked at Draco. He pulled himself back, groaned as he leaned back enough to push their groins together. It was delicious. But Draco didn’t want anything else, except for Harry’s explicit trust. 

“Not sex,” Draco murmured softly. “I’d like to have sex with you, and you know that. But I don’t need that. I just want to sleep beside you like the other night.” 

“You could’ve just got me up.”

“You were sleeping, Harry. You need to sleep. I wasn’t going to wake you up.” 

“Okay,” he said softly. 

“Okay. Do what you need to before bed. We’re going to bed in a half an hour.” 

Harry blushed delicately and looked away. He pushed himself to his feet and stood awkwardly. “I don’t… You really don’t care that I don’t want sex?” 

Draco stood and grabbed Harry’s hips and pulled him close. With a kiss to his soft lips, and murmured, “Not tonight.”

-.-.-.-

Draco watched Harry sleeping. He was curled in on himself with his arms wrapped around his thin chest. Draco had fought to not laugh at the brunette when he’d come back into the room after a long shower. He dressed in his long pajama pants and an oversized and long-sleeved t-shirt. He looked like he was trying to hide in his clothes, even though he knew that Draco wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. 

It bothered him that Harry couldn’t just trust him implicitly, but he understood the reasoning behind it. He knew that somebody had hurt Harry. He recognized the signs of abuse in his brunette lover. Eventually, they would move past this. Eventually, they would have to talk about the issues that had driven Harry to this broken and guarded place. But until then, he would have to deal with the frustration that Harry’s distrust and fears created.

Draco supported his head on his hand and let his eyes trace the contours of Harry’s face. Harry was handsome, and he would be even more so when he wasn’t underweight. He could be beautiful with a little sun and a lot of rest. He needed to sleep more, needed to eat better. He needed somebody to be attentive to Harry’s needs, instead of the needs of the Wizarding World’s curious gossipers. 

Harry sighed softly and rolled over into Draco’s body. His protective stance seemed almost carefully constructed, as if he was prepared to be on guard even when he was supposed to be allowed to relax. It bothered Draco, and he didn’t let himself think about it before he slid his hand over Harry’s shoulders and down his back and up against in a motion that was supposed to be soothing or comforting. It was supposed to let Harry know that he was safe, that he could relax. 

He didn’t stop until Harry shifted and pushed deeper against Draco’s body. He was lying flushed against Draco’s body, and if he hadn’t been awake for a few hours now, he probably would have ended up making a fool of himself. Draco had long since gotten rid of his morning erection. This way, he could support Harry and he could validate his claim that he wasn’t going to pursue any form of sex with him just yet.

He wrapped his arm tight around Harry and held him as he waited for Harry to wake up.

-.-.-.-

Planning a holiday to Italy should have been easier. In any other situation, it probably would have been. As it was, Harry considered himself a liability. He didn’t want to be a burden, and had a hard time agreeing to the trip. Draco had ordered him to just calm down and let go of his need for control, but he knew that it wouldn’t happen.

“I’ll embarrass you,” Harry protested again as Draco pocketed the shrunken trunk: it would be safer for it in his cloak when they took the portkey to Capalbio. 

Draco laced their fingers together and pulled Harry close. He stole Harry’s protests with a swift and deep kiss. “I don’t care. We’re going to Capalbio. We’re going to tour the Italian country side and have a good week and a half away from everyone else. Now, just relax.” 

Harry hung his head and looked away. It was embarrassing. He knew that it would be a different experience while they were in Italy. It was going to be an interesting vacation. Probably a frustrating experience, but a rewarding one, nonetheless.

Draco smiled as he practically dragged Harry through the elaborate halls of the castle and through the gates toward Hogsmeade. There was no travel magic allowed in the castle which meant apparition, portkeys, and flooing were out. 

-.-.-.-

The first day in Capalbio was something that Draco would never forget. Around the residents of the comfortably small enough community, Harry practically rendered himself mute and let Draco take care of everything that they needed taken care of. He offered little opinion on anything. 

He didn’t speak until they were safely hidden away in the spacious villa on the Mediterranean Sea. He was tense and uncomfortable, but it was too late for Harry to change his mind. It was a chance for Draco to take Harry away from everything, from the pressures of the final year at Hogwarts, from the stresses of his memories from the war and the deaths. It was a terrifying place and it was full of memories that had left everyone broken and bruised in one way or another.

“Draco?” Harry asked softly. They were in the bedroom, a single since they’d started to sleep together every night in the Room of Requirement and Harry was framed by the large glass doors that overlooked the crystalline blue waters. It was an absolutely beautiful end to the day. Shortly, the evening would come and the water would be set afire with the setting sun. It was something he’d seen but would never see enough, and couldn’t wait to show Harry. 

“Yes?” 

“Can we just order take away and stay in tonight?”

“That sounds like the best option,” Draco nodded. He returned their trunk to regular size and levitated it to the floor. It was just a few flicks of the wand and they were unpacked and moved into the villa’s bedroom. It was a beautiful room, Draco had to admit. The small hotel had outdone itself in rented villas. The bedroom had a wall opened to the Sea, a line of windows and a set of glass sliding doors. They were charmed to turn opaque with the muttering of a simple spell, to block out the sites. A balcony rested almost delicately against the villa, offering a more advantageous view of the Sea. 

Inside the house, there was a large kitchen with a bar that separated it from the main room. There was an intimate dining nook with two chairs pushed into a circle table. There were large windows in every room that gave it an open feeling. The walls were pale blues and greens, so it was inviting and calming. Draco loved the Capalbio hotel.

“Would you like to sit on the balcony? I’ll order something quick and easy,” Draco suggested. 

Harry nodded and slid his shoes off and the robes he wore over his jeans and thin t-shirt. It was cool outside, and there was a breeze, but Draco smiled to himself as he heard Harry mutter a warming charm before he went out. He followed the brunette after he’d ordered food and watched him rest comfortably in a deck chair. He had his head tipped back and his hands were folded in his lap as he allowed himself to relax. It was a beautiful sight. 

-.-.-.-

There was a small cathedral in the middle of the magical/Wizarding Capalbio. Draco was thrilled to see the way Harry practically lit up when they moved through it. There was nothing incredibly monumental about the Capalbio Cattedrale di S. Croce, but it was a building of subtle beauty. The ceiling was dominated by arched supports that gave the cathedral a larger than average appearance. Rose windows were the central focal points on all four major walls and the obsessively designed row of windows beneath them were just as colorful, if not as elaborate. 

Harry walked slowly through the quiet cathedral. It was supported by magic, guarded by wards and charms and protected against damage. His hands were folded before him, laced together as he walked through. His steps were deliberate and measured, inched along as he took in each window, each arching curve of elegant architecture. 

Draco was much more fascinated by Harry.

-.-.-.-

They were curled together in the middle of the bed. Draco had his arms wrapped around Harry’s lithe body, his dark head was pillowed on Draco’s bent arm and his fingers laced through Draco’s hand on his stomach. It was comfortable and intimate, more than Draco had thought he’d get the opportunity to enjoy.

“That was incredible,” Harry breathed softly. He sounded like he was relaxed. His voice was soft, happier than anything Draco had ever heard coming from the saviour. He liked it. 

“We can go back again,” Draco suggested softly.

Harry shook his head and pushed back against Draco. “No, that’s okay. It was enough to see it today,” he answered. 

Draco tightened his grip around Harry’s stomach and closed his eyes. He bowed his head and pressed his forehead against the base of Harry’s neck. He kissed the spot on his back that he could reach and nodded. “Alright then.” 

“Can we… let’s just sleep like this?” Harry asked hesitantly.

Draco smiled and nodded against his back again. “Go to sleep, Harry,” Draco murmured. “I’ve got you.” 

Harry’s body relaxed against the bed and into Draco’s arms.

-.-.-.-

Draco watched Harry swimming through the waves. He was dressed in a t-shirt and swimming trunks. He looked powerful as he moved through the raging water. He fought the waves and glided through the blue water as easily as a mermaid. He was leaning over the ledge of the balcony, his hands folded before him as he braced against the ledge. 

One day, he’d like to have Harry free like that with him. He needed to have the brunette, as much effort as he’d put into taking care of Harry and helping him to move toward healing meant he wanted the rewards. He would be upset if he didn’t get a relationship with Harry, but he wasn’t going to force the issue. What they had was simply for Harry. 

-.-.-.-

It was Christmas Eve. Draco had ordered in dinner for them and forced Harry into the shower. He set up their dinner on the dining room table, a few single lilies in a vase in the middle. It was a pretty set up, if he said so himself. Ham, potatoes, corn, and bread settled on the table and a cheesecake rested in the fridge. 

And on the bar was a silver pensieve with a single memory. Harry had wanted to know what his favorite memory of the brunette was and Draco was more than willing to give him that. 

He wore a pair of dark jeans low on his hips and a black button down shirt that was open at the collar. His hair was pushed to the side, free of any gels and products that he normally used. It was an attempt at casual. When Harry walked in, dressed in a green t-shirt and faded jeans, he knew that his effort had paid off. 

There was a look of perfect awe on his face. His eyes were wide as he looked around, studied the walls and the floor and the table. He looked anywhere but at Draco, and tried not to focus on the pensieve on the bar. 

“Join me,” Draco murmured and gestured to the open chair.

They set close together, pressed shoulder to shoulder as they ate. It was comfortable, and they didn’t talk a lot as they ate, but it was relaxing. And Draco couldn’t have asked for a better evening, another holiday evening.

“I’ve got you a present for Christmas Eve,” Draco murmured softly when they’d finished eating. He smiled when Harry blushed and bowed his head. His fingers fluttered over Draco’s hand nervously and he finally nodded. “Come on.” 

He stood and dragged Harry after him. It was important that Harry have this memory. It was something that he deserved, something that he had asked for. And for Draco, it was an easy gift to give.

He watched Harry looked into the pensieve. He knew what it contained. It was the first memory fo Harry that had stuck in his mind that put Harry in a positive light, as something more than just his rival. There had been nothing particularly special that day, nothing that Harry had done differently to call Draco’s attention, but it was a moment of nearly perfect recollection. 

[i]Harry moving through white wisps of clouds high above the pitch. His cheeks are red, painted in the rush of wind and cold, and it makes him look alive, like nothing else had. His unruly black hair is wind swept and completely helpless in the upper altitude winds. He looks [/i]alive[i], and it’s exciting.

Perhaps one of the biggest pieces of the attractive puzzle is the crimson robe that clings to Harry’s shape. He’s fit, muscular in all the right places according to the close fabric. His thighs are strong: he clings to the broom with one hand and clenched thighs.[/i]

Draco hadn’t been able to stop the rush of lust as he realized that Harry was bloody fucking gorgeous. They had been fifteen and hormones had been an incredible bitch, and it did nothing against the hot rush of lust. They had been fighting on opposite sides of the war, full of convictions and desperate beliefs. But in that moment, when Harry had believed himself alone, and Draco had let him, they were removed from conflict and shame and the bitter flame of hatred. 

Harry pulled his head away from the pensieve and stared into the kitchen for a long minute. He didn’t speak, he didn’t even move. It was unnerving, and Draco was a little concerned. Before he could say something about it though, Harry turned on his heel and asked in a soft, almost dreamy voice, “That’s your favorite memory of me?” 

“Before we started this, yes.” 

“Why this memory?”

“Because I wanted you to know that before we were friends, before we were involved in this, I still wanted you. I focused on you. I wanted to fall at your feet and worship you. And I wanted to hex you,” Draco smiled. He ran an elegant hand through his blond hair and looked down. “I was obsessed with you,” he confessed. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered.

Harry crossed the room quickly and dropped to his knees gracefully. He’d lots of practice lately and it showed in this moment, when he was so emotionally overwhelmed but was able to make it graceful still. He placed his hands gently on Draco’s thighs and stroked slowly. He stopped when his hands were wrapped around the curve of Draco’s hips and looked up. His eyes were dark green with emotion Draco couldn’t name. He tangled his elegant hand in Harry’s disheveled hair and smiled. 

Harry shifted his kneeling position and braced his hands on Draco’s knees. With a gentle push, he spread the blond’s legs and moved between the vee. Harry blinked up at Draco and licked his lips like a coquettish and teasing grin.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked as he slid his hand through Harry’s disheveled hair.

“I trust you,” Harry stated softly. “I want to give you this.” 

Draco nodded. He swallowed hard against the knot in the back of his throat and didn’t more. Harry needed to do this as he was most comfortable. Draco couldn’t help. This was Harry making a choice and standing by it. And Draco would respect him for that. 

Harry managed to get Draco’s pants open and he slid calloused hands across delicate skin. He smiled slightly before he adjusted his position and licked the tip of Draco’s erection. Draco fought the urge to thrust up hard into the tight heat and threw his head back against the chair instead. 

Harry’s tongue slid over the tip, flicked it playfully before Harry wrapped his lips around the soft head and swallowed. Draco grunted approvingly and tilted his hips up. Harry wrapped his left hand around the base of Draco’s shaft and stroked slowly up towards his lips. With another swallow, he used his lips to push the hand back, and stopped when he was half way down. 

Draco grunted in approval. Harry was good- a steady and teasing pace that made him want to ride Harry’s lips until he came, or memorialize the image and please himself indefinitely. 

He combed his fingers through dark hair and jerked when the head of his erection hit the back of Harry’s throat. Draco grunted and wasn’t surprised when Harry repeated the action again and again. He was brought to the edge quick and trembled as he fought to maintain balance on the edge, unwilling to let go so quickly. 

“Harry,” he warned in a strained voice. 

Harry sat back and replaced his lips with his hand. It was a firm grip and he would be damned if the callouses didn’t make it that much more exciting. Draco thrust up into the touch and gripped the sides of the chair tightly. It didn’t take long, almost an embarrassingly short amount of time before he was spilling hot over the determined hold of his dark haired lover. 

When he got his breathing back under control, Draco pushed himself to his knees and slid his hands around Harry. The brunette tensed before he relaxed slightly and leaned into the comforting touch. Draco breathed deep, enjoyed the smell of Harry close to him. He wanted to remember this day for the significance it held: Harry initiated something so intimate, so perfect. He kissed the tanned skin and whispered against Harry’s ear, “What can I do for you?” 

Harry blushed, and shook his head. He bowed his head down against his chest and dragged Draco’s hand to his groin. Draco laughed and pushed Harry onto his back before rolled over to lie beside him. Harry didn’t like to be laid over- he didn’t like the trapped feeling, and Draco respected that. “You came just from a blowjob?” 

“Shut up wanker,” Harry murmured as he buried his face in Draco’s shoulder. He brought his hand up to cover his face and hid his embarrassment. 

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” he answered softly instead. He curled his hand over the curve of Harry’s back and stroked the covered skin lovingly. The brunette relaxed against him and nodded his answer.

-.-.-.-

[i]I did have sex for a little while. For a couple of months after the war, when somebody wanted to fuck me, I’d let them. After I got out of the hospital, I knew that it would be impossible for me to find something normal, so I let people who propositioned me have me. I got fucked a lot. They were happy. I was okay with it. I heard what they called me, and it worked. I wasn’t supposed to live after Voldemort. I wasn’t supposed to live. But I did, and I didn’t care for a long time.

I don’t know how many men there were. It was a lot. I don’t know. I don’t know what made me do it. I just, I wanted to feel something, even if it was disgust or shame. I hated that I survived. I hated that I made it. I wanted one of those men to just get too rough, to break me. I wanted them to fuck me too hard and leave me a broken and ruined mess. 

I let men use me like a whore. And on top of it all, a part of me liked it too. I was all anyone would do to me. If nobody wanted to fuck me, I didn’t do anything. I let it all just be what others wanted. Peopled used me, and it was okay.[/i]

-.-.-.-

Draco looked at the page in horror. He was relieved he was alone with it. Usually he was, but the last time it hadn’t been true. But this note, and to write it while they were in Italy! On their last day together in Italy! Something like this should have been done while they were at home at Hogwarts. 

He slid a hand down his face, tried to cover the look of disgust on his face. That Harry had cared so little for himself and had just let others use him; that the men who had fucked him hadn’t cared that Harry was a wounded teen, surviving the only way he knew. He had been broken after the war. And the perverts he’d let fuck him had been spineless bastards. There was no consideration of Harry.

As far as Draco knew, he hadn’t even been paid for his body. He was propositioned and he’d accepted it and been fucked. There was no telling how many men had used the broken saviour either. Draco thought he might throw up. No telling how many men had used him after the war and only managed to reinforce the belief that Harry had held about his lack of worth.

He looked up at a small noise from Harry as he pushed the bathroom door shut. He took in Draco’s face and apparently understood. He dropped gracefully to his knees, his glasses and boxers the only thing he wore and folded his hands in his lap. Draco was impressed: Harry was getting better.

“Harry,” he said softly. “Let’s talk about this.” 

“About what?” 

“About the letter you wrote me,” Draco said in a voice that was short and sharp. 

“I didn’t care. I just thought you should know,” he shrugged as he looked away. 

“Harry,” he started slowly. He wanted to ask if Harry had been raped, but he didn’t want to push the brunette before he was ready. If Harry had been raped, surely he would say something to Draco. Instead, Harry seemed to not care that he had been treated like nothing. “Why?” 

“I didn’t care. I don’t 

-.-.-.-

[i]Draco,   
You can know what happened if you want. I don’t care anymore. It’s hard to care. You’re doing something to me, and I’m not really sure what it is, but you’re changing something. I see myself differently, especially when I think about what you might want from me. I feel… I don’t know. I feel safer, maybe- especially when you put the damned collar on my neck and give me orders. 

I always thought that giving up so much control would mean I was weak. All Dum- everyone wanted from me was to be strong. Apparently I was that last final deciding factor between the salvation and the desecration of the Wizarding World. And really, it’s not fucking fair. I was eleven when it was given to me. Seventeen when I had to kill. It… I can’t do it. I can’t be that person anymore.

I don’t know how you recognized that in me. And I really don’t know where you learned what you know, but I’m grateful for it. It’s a relief to know that you’re doing something to support me.

I think… I think you have an idea of what happened to me. I think you figured it out. Your mum saved my life, but at the same time, she didn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, she gave me a way to handle. And that’s weird. Aside from the men who were there and your mum, nobody knows. And now you. Not even Ron or Hermione know. Or Mrs. Weasley who is the closest thing to a mum I’ve ever known. 

Your mum was brave Draco. So don’t blame her for anything. I thanked her. If it wasn’t for her quick action, quick thinking… I’d be dead. She spelled me. Paralyzed me so I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t open my eyes. And after your mum declared me dead, I was… they all took turns. There were nine men there. And your mum and Bellatrix. And Voldemort. And except for your mum and Bellatrix, they all… I can’t say it, so please don’t make me. I’m not going to write it, this is more than enough. I can’t… I don’t know how this will help you. Or me.

So, now you know. And that’s all that there is to know about it. There’s nothing else to say. And I can’t… I can’t explain it better than that. Your mum saved my life but they wouldn’t let it end there. I wanted to die. Every time. I didn’t… I couldn’t enjoy it. And now, I want to with you, but I can’t. Just, slow. It has to be… we have to be slow if you want this to work. I do want you, Draco. I want to be with you, but I can’t have sex with you. 

But if you want to fuck me now, and I know that you do, you can. I won’t… I won’t fight you, Draco. I don’t want to fight anymore. I can’t fight anymore. I think if we do this, the submission thing, that we’ll eventually be able to have that kind of relationship. I think, if you have all the control, make all the decisions, eventually it’ll… I’ll get over it. [/i]

-.-.-.-

Draco watched Harry as he slowly woke up. His eyebrows furrowed together and his body started to actually tense up and twitch slowly. He shifted in Draco’s loose hold and curled into the blond. Things had been progressing steadily toward something more. Harry was starting to trust Draco, and it showed in the way he behaved. He was learning to let himself go. 

And with this revelation, knowing what had happened to Harry; Draco knew that he had to tell Harry the truth. He had been a Death Eater. He had to let Harry know that if he hadn’t been trapped in the school, his father would have had him in the Forbidden Forest too. He would have been involved in the ritual. He would have been part of the group of Death Eaters who’d raped Harry when he’d been unable to move.

When his mother had cursed Harry into paralysis. 

Draco pulled Harry close and slid his hand down the naked arm. They were naked in bed together. It was one of the last few things they were working on together. Their next step together was moving past teasing and into intimacy. But Draco couldn’t honestly do that until he’d given Harry this little bit of truth. He needed to know what could have been, the man that Draco could have become.

Harry groaned and tensed before he forced his body to relax. Draco could feel his body drawn taut and then forcibly relaxed. It was a slow process, something he was familiar with. It was a technique Draco had taught him. Relax the feet first, then the calves, the thighs, and then the hips. Relax the stomach, the back, his hands, and then his arms. Slow repetitive breathing set a pattern that was easy to follow. The routine gave Harry something to depend on, to rely on. 

Harry shifted so he was curled tighter against Draco’s side. It was hard to resist the natural desire to roll them over so Harry was on his back and just take him. It was something he wanted, but thinking about it meant he remembered Harry’s face when he’d held him down. The desperate and terrified look. 

“Morning,” Harry rasped. He nuzzled his cheek against Draco’s shoulder and sighed in contentment. 

“Go freshen up and then rejoin me Harry.” Draco muttered the order like it would be one of the final ones he’d give. 

“Are… Are you okay?” 

“We need to talk.” 

“Okay,” Harry answered. He slid out of bed carefully and moved slowly through the room to the en suite bathroom. He moved with his hands low in his lap, covering himself as he moved. Draco was thrilled with what he and Harry were doing, but he knew that things needed to be done carefully. 

He listened to water running in the bathroom and closed his eyes as he forced his tired mind to focus. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by the things that he could have been involved in. At the person he could have been. He blinked his eyes open and breathed deep as he stared at the patterns of shadows dancing across the ceiling. He slid a hand through his blond hair and sighed as the water stopped running and Harry came back into the room. 

He was still naked, which was a good thing. He was never comfortable with his nudity and even more uncomfortable with it when he had to be out of the bed or away from blankets that could quickly hide him. He moved awkwardly, his steps short and stilted as he tried to keep his bollocks hidden behind demure hands. His head was bowed and the flush that colored his cheeks extended down to his chest and shoulders. He was embarrassed and afraid. 

“Come on Harry,” Draco murmured softly. He lifted the blanket and sheet and gestured for the brunette to join him. Harry slid onto the bed fairly gracefully and curled into a small ball that hid everything. Harry’s face was pillowed on Draco’s chest, his neck exposed as he waited for the pale arm to fall around his shoulders and hold him close again. It was cuddling, and as much as Draco would admit to not being into cuddling, he couldn’t help it with Harry.

“What’re we talking about?” Harry asked as he made himself comfortable against Draco. He yawned quietly and shifted until he was comfortable. 

“That journal entry you wrote me,” was the quiet answer. What he was going to tell Harry needed to be said quietly. He needed to know that Harry trusted him, and Harry needed to know who he almost was.

“Okay,” Harry nodded. His body tensed just enough that it was obvious he was uncomfortable and mostly afraid. 

“You said it was everyone in the Forbidden Forest with you that night. The Death Eaters who’d accompanied him, who’d witnessed your fight with him, right?” 

Harry nodded against Draco’s chest. On the flat stomach, the blond felt the tension in Harry’s fist, in the way his arm tensed up and his hand shook as he laid still. “Y-yeah,” he finally stuttered out.

“You know that I was branded,” Draco prefaced. “That I was a Death Eater. If…If mum hadn’t insisted that I be in the school, I would have been there.” 

Harry tensed, his whole body stiffened against the idea that Draco might have been there. If he hadn’t been in the school, Draco would have been one of the nine involved in the brutal raping of his cursed body. It was hard to deal with; Draco couldn’t even begin to pretend that he understood what was going on in Harry’s head. He knew that it was hard for him to think that he had almost become one of those monsters. But for the man who had been the victim, he couldn’t begin to fathom.

“Is that…Is that why…This?” Harry stuttered as he rolled away from Draco. He sat up and curled into his slender body, more lithe than underweight, Draco had been taking care to ensure Harry ate.

“No. You’re mine Harry. Mine. When we’re together like this, you’re mine. I didn’t even know about it, until you told me.”

“You… You just want what they… you… would you have?” 

“I don’t know Harry,” Draco murmured. He sat up and folded his hands in his lap. He just looked at the other man, at the way he looked so dejected and defeated. He hated that look. “I like to think that I wouldn’t have done it, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named liked to punish if you disobeyed and do it swiftly.”

Harry just nodded and flopped back onto the bed. He spread his arms wide and kicked the blankets low on his hips. Without waiting for a command or offering an explanation, he rolled over onto his stomach and lifted his arse. 

“Harry?” 

“This is what you want. You want to fuck me? Fuck me. I won’t fight you, Draco. Just like I promised.” 

Draco stared silently for a long minute. It seemed like an eternity before he could breathe again. His body trembled as he looked at the shapely arse, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Harry, that wasn’t a lie and nobody would say anything to the contrary, but he didn’t want Harry like this. He wanted Harry when Harry was ready to go that far. He needed to have Harry when Harry wanted it. He would never take Harry before he was ready. He would not rape the brunette.

“Turn over,” he ordered softly. His voice was stern, but not unkind. He needed to have Harry relax, but he needed to have Harry trust him enough to know that he wouldn’t just use his body. He crawled over Harry’s body and lifted the calloused hands over Harry’s head. He whispered a soft incantation that kept the hands still. “I’ve got you Harry,” he promised. 

Draco closed his and let the room do what he needed it to. He needed the cool lube and smiled when it materialized on the bed beside them. Harry was stiff, his body taut. It looked like he was ready to break apart and Draco pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s too bitten lips. He was determined to show Harry how different things were between people who loved one another. He was sure that he would love Harry given the time. He liked him too much to leave him, given the chance, he knew he’d come to love him. 

He kissed Harry’s jaw and whispered softly, “Don’t move.” Harry didn’t acknowledge the command. He closed his eyes, fisted his bound hands and just waited. 

Draco hated the resignation he could read in the body. It was depressing, and it broke Draco’s heart. He needed to save Harry. He pushed himself up so he was kneeling above Harry. He looked down on the long body, traced the muscles and the curves with hot eyes. He wanted Harry, didn’t care if he was buried in the saviour or the other way. He was fluid enough to play both sides.

“Harry,” Draco murmured. He watched the green eyes blink open as they looked up at him. There was fear and concern there. His bottom lip was tucked firmly between his teeth, pinched down hard. Draco knew that if it was held longer, he would bite through the skin. Draco didn’t want to kiss Harry and taste the copper of the brunette’s blood. He slid his thumb over the curve of Harry’s lip and tapped his thumbnail against Harry’s exposed teeth. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 

Harry shivered and licked his lips as he let it go. His eyes were narrowed as he looked up at the ceiling, stared at the darkness above them. His hands were fisted together, fingers twisted together as he forced himself to stay still. There was fear in Harry’s eyes. 

Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s, a gentle kiss that spoke volumes about what he felt, rather than what they would be doing. It was going to be a long day, a chance for them to take things to the next level, the necessary progression of things that needed to happen. Harry had to know that Draco would never hurt him. His hand skimmed down Harry’s side, finger tips traced the contours of Harry’s body. He put pressure in the indentations; felt the heat of Harry’s skin and the warmth of his body. He was sexier now that he’d put on weight. He looked like he was healthy, instead of the dangerously underweight that he had been when they’d started everything, the harrowed look that he had had throughout their previous school years.

“Harry,” Draco murmured softly. “Trust me. You’ve trusted me this far, trust me just a little bit more.

He kissed Harry deeply again and pressed his semi-hard erection into Harry’s flat pelvis. He flicked his tongue into Harry’s mouth and rocked his hips forward as he slid a finger deep into his body. It wasn’t the easiest position to try to stretch his body open, but Draco slid his fingers, spelled wordlessly wet, as deep into his body as he could. The angle was awkward, but it was effective. Two fingers deep enough that he could feel the rush of lust and desperation as he was penetrated. Aside from quick dirty wanking in the shower, Draco hasn’t had an orgasm since he started seeing Harry. 

He watched Harry’s green eyes, made sure that Harry knew that what they were doing wasn’t a bad thing at all. They were going to have sex. And it was going to be sex that they both wanted and both would enjoy. Sex wasn’t a one-sided thing between normal people. Even if Draco might have preferred a little more kink with his sex than others, he would never demand it from Harry. He arched his body slowly against Harry’s. He could get enough into himself to stretch his body wide open. Harry had a good size when he was erect, and Draco couldn’t wait to have him deep in his body. He couldn’t wait to surprise Harry enough to show him that he was willing to have this with him, even if it wasn’t what Harry was used to. 

He groaned as he spread the fingers in his body. His hips thrust against Harry and he pulled his fingers out of his body. “Have you ever done this before?” Draco asked. “Have you ever been buried in another man’s body?” 

Harry shook his head and didn’t speak. His teeth dug into his lower lip and he swallowed. He relaxed his fists and tensed them up again. His body arched against Draco and he sobbed a breath in as he tried to stay calm, tried to trust Draco. It was all obvious in the wet green eyes and tight lips. It helped that Harry seemed to have enjoyed the display of Draco writhing on top of him, his dick rose proudly, red tipped with a thin shiny sheen.

Draco slid his hand down Harry’s hardened flesh, a wet glide as he prepared Harry to be his lover in one of the last steps left to make. It wasn’t how he had imagined their first time together to be, but it was exciting nonetheless. Draco would make the best of it. He didn’t have any condoms and it didn’t matter: he knew cleaning spells. And he trusted Harry’s discretion. 

“Watch me Harry,” Draco ordered as he shifted above the brunette. 

With their eyes locked, Draco slid slowly down the short shaft, his body tight and resisting to the intrusion. Harry’s body trembled and his hips thrust up abortively. He clenched his eyes shut and gasped. “Draco,” he whimpered. His body was tense and he whined as Draco settled against Harry’s hips, his ass flushed tight and snug against Harry. 

Draco breathed a gasping and trembling breath and braced the dry hand behind him, and the wet hand on Harry’s stomach. His muscles flexed and relaxed as he watched Harry. The tight body shuddered and he dug his nails into his hands. It was a beautiful thing, watching Harry fall apart as he struggled with this new shift in power. His hips made small movements and Draco smirked as he tightened his body and refused to give. 

“I’ve got you Harry,” Draco whispered. 

He lifted himself up and licked his lips before he slid back down. Harry’s body thrust up and there was a soft gasp. He repeated the movements, careful and steady. He wanted to move harder and faster, but Harry needed this. He needed slow and steady, a physical manifestation of the trust and love that floated between them. Green eyes were wide as he watched Draco move. His mouth was open as he struggled to breathe regularly. His body was tensed as he rode the waves of Draco’s movements. The blond groaned as he shifted and the head of Harry’s dick hit just right. Sparks of lust and heat sparked through Draco’s body and he gasped as he pulled away and dropped purposefully into Harry’s lap. 

“Can I touch you?” Harry begged softly. His voice was strained. He thrust his hips up when Draco dropped and they both groaned. 

The blond waved his hand and nodded. Harry’s hands, calloused and rough slid up Draco’s thighs and cupped his slender waist. He held him, didn’t try to move Draco just let him move as he wanted. His green eyes traveled over Draco’s body. The blond felt powerful and puffed his chest out proudly. He licked his lips and moved as fluidly as possible. 

“Draco,” Harry whimpered. His body jerked and the dark jade disappeared as he closed his eyes desperately. “Draco!” he begged. 

“It’s alright,” Draco murmured. “Let go.” 

He rolled his hips and clenched tightly. His hands fisted on Harry’s stomach and thigh and he sped up. His body was tense with the pleasure that burned through him, and he couldn’t wait to feel the heat of Harry when he came. It had been far too long for himself, and his body was strung tightly.

Harry thrust up hard against Draco and froze as he jerked and came. Draco groaned at the feeling and rocked against Harry, dragged him through it. Draco only stopped when Harry seemed to melt into the bed. He rested on Harry’s hips, enjoyed the feel of warmth as it settled in his body. He wrapped a hand around himself and grunted as he pulled on the shaft, his fingers around the sensitive underside and the ridge. He stroked quickly and firm until his body seized and he braced himself with a hand on Harry’s stomach as he came. Viscous white fluid decorated Harry’s flat stomach, slid from his slowly softening flesh, and it was perfect.

Harry’s eyes were clenched tightly shut and Draco could see the gathered tears in the corners. But he wasn’t fighting, and he hadn’t tried to stop what had happened. He looked relaxed and sated, bloody delicious. Draco shifted and let the soft flesh slide the completely free from his body before he slid to the side and curled up next to the brunette. 

It wasn’t a surprised when Harry rolled over and pressed himself tight against Draco’s side. He slid his muscled arm around Draco’s narrow waist and just held on. His breaths were wet and quick; there were tears on his shoulder, and while he knew that usually he would have done what he could to stop the tears, but he couldn’t do that this time. Sometimes, tears were acceptable.

Draco fell asleep long after Harry did, the warmth of his body a comfortable weight against him. 

-.-.-.-

[i]I like what we did. It was… I’ve never had sex like that. Whenever I did have sex, I was the one being fucked. It’s not always a bad thing, apparently, because I know that you enjoyed it. It was fun to watch you riding me. I was… I love you, I think. I think I am in love with the way you make me feel. I know I have to be this brave and proud saviour for the world to see, but I don’t have to be that with you. And it’s nice. There are no demands. I just… I just sit there and let you lead me. And that scares me, even though it relieves me too.

I think… I’m learning to trust what you say. I’m starting to realise that you’re right. That you aren’t trying to hurt me. That you do care. And I’m… I trust you.[/i]

-.-.-.-

Harry’s arms were spread apart and magically held against the bedposts. His hands were fisted, and his eyes were clenched shut. He was naked, and unfortunately for Draco, he wasn’t hard either. His dick lay flaccid between his thighs, nested on the black curls of his pubic hair. 

“Trust me,” Draco murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the strong flesh of Harry’s hip. “Relax for me.” 

Draco slid his hands down Harry’s calves, caressed the flesh through the surprisingly soft hair. He kissed Harry’s knee and with his hands on Harry’s ankles, spread the long legs slowly. 

Harry’s body tensed. He shook as he waited for Draco to make a move. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and he looked terrified. Draco slid up Harry’s spread legs and kissed the soft skin of Harry’s inner thighs. “I’ve got you,” he promised. 

He murmured the soft cleaning spell and watched Harry tremble as it washed over him. As reassuringly as he could, Draco patted Harry’s knee before he muttered the charm spell for the lube that he would need. 

Harry gasped a wet breath in when Draco’s finger slid into the tight passage. He curled his finger and kissed the prominent bone of Harry’s hip. He pulled his finger back and thrust back in slowly. Harry’s body was too tight, and Draco needed him to relax. 

“Relax,” Draco purred. He blew lightly across the flaccid tip of Harry’s dick and smiled when he caught the flinched muscles in Harry’s stomach. “Let me in baby.” 

Draco pressed a gentle kiss to the soft shaft and let his tongue crawl lightly over the flesh. The flesh tensed and he smirked as Harry gasped. He used the momentary surprise to push his finger deep and rotated his hand. Harry whimpered at the intrusion and he lifted his knees, widely braced as he succumbed to Draco’s careful ministrations. Draco pushed Harry’s knees higher, wider, and smiled as he adjusted his position. There was some rigidity in Harry’s still mostly limp cock, but Draco knew that would change. 

He shifted his position and blew across the hot skin of Harry’s bollocks. He lapped at the wrinkled skin and pressed his nose against the smooth muscle of Harry’s hip. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered into the pale skin.

Harry didn’t speak. His body trembled but he didn’t fight against Draco. He jumped when Draco slid his lips lower and licked around his finger and across the opening. Harry’s body jerked and Draco knew it was a good reaction. The nearly flaccid length filled with blood and rose to half hardness. A blush filled the tip and Draco let his eyes drink in the offering being granted him. He tensed his tongue and drove it against Harry’s opening, relishing the feel of it as it slid along his index finger.

He pulled back and wrapped his lips around the head of Harry’s dick. He sucked hard, and closed his eyes at the salty tang of Harry’s natural taste. He swallowed and grinned at the moan Harry let fall from his lips. He hadn’t been able to give the brunette a blowjob yet, so it was a new experience altogether. He was going to learn Harry’s taste, and he was going to learn what Harry liked.

Draco waited until Harry’s eyes were closed in obvious bliss and slid a second finger into his body. He curled his fingers and massaged the tensed inner muscles before he pulled them out and thrust them back in again. Harry’s body jerked again, his eyes clenched shut and he whimpered a noise that was broken and wasted. Draco loved it. 

He slid his lips further down, engulfed the whole head and half of the hardening shaft. It was amazing to feel the length hardening in his mouth, getting stronger because of his mouth. Because of Draco’s ability. Harry bucked upwards, thrust his dick into Draco’s throat and fell back hard against Draco’s fingers. He whined and arched his back slightly. 

“Dr-Draco!” he gasped in a voice that was on the edge of tears.

Harry slid his free hand down Harry’s flank and petted him gently. His hand rose slowly, caressing hot skin. He hummed around the hot flesh between his lips and sank lower, swallowing around most of the hardened flesh. When Harry made that desperate noise again, he pulled around, not ready to have Harry come just yet. He shifted lower and grinned as he blew cool air over Harry’s hole.

“You’re doing great,” he promised softly. Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s bollocks and licked kittenishly at the heavy curve of them before he returned to his task. He scissored his fingers apart and slid his tongue between the digits. Harry bucked hard and whimpered. The noise was soft and wet and Draco loved it. He hated that Harry was probably crying, but he wasn’t taut in fear anymore.

He flicked his tongue against the rim before he bowed his head and dug his tongue in deeper. It was dark and tangy with old sweat and the purest essence of Harry’s taste. He pressed his fingers deeper and huffed as his fingertips pressed the spongy tip of Harry’s prostate. The brunette yelled a noise out that seemed to shock him as much as it did Draco. 

“Draco!” he panted in a desperate and broken voice. 

Draco licked his way out of Harry and grinned when he asked, “Like that baby?” 

Harry didn’t answer verbally. Instead, his body was taut and hard and he shook his head first, and then nodded. His fists were straining against the bonds holding him still and he sobbed. Draco took pity and pressed the tips of his fingers against the soft bundle of nerves. He smirked as Harry rocked back and moaned brokenly. His voice was hoarse and it sounded like he was struggling to breath, but Draco was relentless in his attack.

Added to the pleasurable torture he offered Harry, he wrapped his lips tight around the tip and probed his tongue at the underside. Harry cursed and jerked against the magical hold. “Draco,” he panted. “Gonna… gonna come!” he rocked up and pressed hard back into Draco’s fingers. “Please,” he begged.

Draco inhaled deep before he swallowed around the turgid length in his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as the viscous pre-come slid over his tongue and he swallowed. 

He blinked his eyes open and pressed his fingers relentlessly tight against Harry’s prostate and massaged. Harry exploded across his tongue and Draco swallowed, pulled back so the hot flesh wasn’t tight against the back of his throat, and swallowed again. His throat worked and he watched Harry tremble and fall apart as he came. When the hot bitter fluid stopped flowing, Draco pulled his fingers from Harry’s body, wrapped his hand around the base of the slowly softening length and slid off. 

Harry’s head was turned to the side, buried against his shoulder. He sobbed as he breathed in, shallow and broken. Harry cried and Draco waved his hands and broke the spell that held the brunette still. He crawled quickly up the bed and pulled a pillow into his lap before he pulled Harry against him. Harry wrapped his arms tight around himself and collapsed against the blond. He shivered as he sobbed, drew in cool air and forced hot, wet breaths out in return. 

“Let it out,” Draco encouraged. Idly, he drew protective runes across the expanse of Harry’s lightly tanned back. His fingertips slid across slight scars and pushed south. “You’ve done so well. Thank you Harry,” he murmured. 

Harry didn’t speak. He trembled as he sobbed and clung to Draco as tightly as he could. He cried for a long time, wrapped in Draco’s embrace before his breaths finally evened out. Harry drifted off, sniffling against Draco. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that he was currently naked and Draco was completely dressed. His brows were drawn together in sleep and Draco sighed softly as he pushed the brunette gently to the bed. 

Carefully, he climbed off of the bed. While holding his lover, his own erection had faded. With him asleep, Draco was almost ashamed to admit that it was back in full force. He enjoyed naked Harry, liked the tanned flesh presented to him. He licked his lips and wondered how Harry would react to Draco dragging his tongue across the skin, tasting him from head to toe.

He palmed himself through his pants and groaned at the feel. Fuck, he needed to come. He hurried into the bathroom, spelling himself naked in his haste. He dropped to his knees, spread wide and wrapped his hand tight around the base as he fondled his bollocks, fingertips questing further back still.

He stroked himself quickly, calloused fingertips danced over the firm shaft and fluttered down. He swiped his thumb over the tip, let his nail catch on the slit and moaned as he thrust into his fist. 

He slid his fingers along the rim of his ass and pressed in teasingly. He wouldn’t be able to reach his prostate at this angle, but the sensation of being fucked was well worth the effort it took. He pressed his thumb against his perineum and rubbed counter clockwise, searching for the right spot. 

Pleasure spiked through him and he groaned at the feel. Redoubling his efforts at getting off, Draco moved his fist faster and thrust his arse close and tight against the massaging thumb. He wanted to scream. His body trembled on the edge of pleasure and he let himself taste Harry, remembered the dark muskiness and the bitter salty tang of his come. 

Draco exploded over his fingers. He used the thick fluid to slide his hand quick and powerful over the slowly softening length. He groaned Harry’s name and collapsed forward gracefully. He was so enamoured by Harry that he was almost willing to call it love. And that was something, though he was loathe to share it, he needed to tell Harry. It was the only thing that he could think of that would explain his unusual behavior. He pushed himself to his feet and staggered into the shower. 

Harry was curled into himself in the middle of the bed when Draco finally left the bathroom. It had taken longer than he’d expected getting the feeling back in his knees. He carried a warm wet towel with him to do marginal clean-up for Harry until the morning. Just enough to get the lube cleaned off of his thighs and arse. 

He wiped gently at the curve of Harry’s body and jerked back in surprise when he heard the brunette beg softly, “Please, no.” 

Draco sighed softly and finished wiping the towel over Harry’s body before he threw it to the floor beside the bed. The room or the house elves would take care of it. For the moment, he had something more important to address: Harry and his nightmares. 

Draco curled his arm beneath his head and wrapped his left arm around Harry’s waist. He smiled at how perfectly he left against his chest. Harry’s body was cool and he trembled as he slept. 

“Harry,” Draco murmured against Harry’s neck. He pressed his lips against the smooth skin and snuggled close to his lover. “I’ve got you.”

“No,” Harry whispered softly. He curled into himself seven more and whined before he relaxed and woke slowly.

Draco pushed against Harry’s shoulder to encourage him to roll over. When he had, his long naked body pressed against Draco, with his lithe and powerful arms folded up into his chest. He looked rough, like he hadn’t slept in months. The old fear was evident again in his overly expressive eyes and Draco wanted to erase it.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly. He wrapped a pale arm around Harry’s body and smiled at his lover. 

“Tornado,” Harry whispered. There were tears in the corner of his eyes. “I can’t. I can’t again.”

Draco tightened his hold on the brunette. “Alright Harry,” he murmured. “Alright love. Don’t cry. I’ve got you.” 

“Don’t… I can’t do that. I can’t give you that again,” Harry whispered desperately. “If that’s… if that’s what you want, you have to let me go. I’ll leave and we can forget all of this happened.” 

“Harry,” Draco murmured. “Harry, it doesn’t matter to me if you can’t let me fuck you. That’s not the only thing I want from you. I want you for who you are.” 

“I know it’s not because I beat Voldemort. But I don’t understand,” Harry muttered softly.

“You want to know the truth?” 

Harry shook his head and buried his face against Draco’s chest, his chin behind his fingers. His eyes were closed and the wild curls of his hair tickled Draco’s chin. “Call me a coward, but I really don’t.” 

“Harry. Look at me,” Draco ordered gently. His fingers twined with the brunette’s and tickled the bottom of Harry’s chin. He waited until the dark green eyes were focused on him and smiled as comfortingly as he could. “I love you,” he admitted. Without waiting for Harry to answer, he bowed his head and pressed his lips against Harry’s. 

There was the faint taste of salt against his lips from Harry’s tears. But the hesitant response made it worth everything. He was baring himself for Harry’s scrutiny. Harry had given him the trust and the love that he’d earned. This moment was Harry’s. Draco could give him little else. He wanted everything Harry, and he wanted to give everything back to Harry. 

His lover. 

The brunette shifted and wrapped his arms hesitantly around Draco’s body, hugged him tight and just held on. He broke the kiss and buried his face against Draco’s shoulder and the lithe body shook as he cried. Draco held him tight, supported him as best as he could as Harry let it all out.

There was so much that still needed to be addressed and dealt with. They needed to confront the issues that Harry had with sex and bottoming: the painful associations his lover had with it. And eventually they would. Until then, Draco was content to just let things be as they were.


End file.
